


Eyes of a Fallen Angel

by chrisgiaconfetti



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Fallen Angel, Human, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 17:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11650920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrisgiaconfetti/pseuds/chrisgiaconfetti
Summary: To trust is to firmly believe in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something. The only thing I’ve ever honestly trusted is death. It’s always there, something everyone must meet. Death is constant.





	Eyes of a Fallen Angel

**Author's Note:**

> A short story I wrote in my trusty journal. Thank you for reading!

Prologue:  
“Why,” the fallen angel asks me, “are you so intrigued by death?”

I respond, “because I don’t know about it. It’s a mystery. If I were to be encased in death, then I too would be nothing more than a mystery - a question - and that might be the most interesting thing about me. And I guess there’s a hope in the back of my mind that, if I find death, maybe I’ll find myself.”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Are you afraid of the dark?”

“Well, no, but-” I cut her off.

“There’s your answer. So, no, I’m not afraid of death. It’s the same as walking into a dark room.” She laughed.

“Humans sure are interesting. Maybe it’s just you. I’ve never seen such a fascination with death. Not even from the dead people themselves.”

_____________

 

I am Coralie. I am 26 years old. All these years, days, hours, seconds of life surrounded by people who I can trust, who do their best to be there for me and make me happy. But I’ve been walking my roads alone.

I’m curious about everything. When I was younger, I’d always wonder off to look at something that struck my innocent eyes as unfamiliar. What I’m most attracted to, though, is what goes beyond the simple things an eye can see.

How blessed have I been to encounter a fallen angel, but not to achieve my one goal.

Our meeting was a strange one, certainly. A knife in my leg quickly turned into a knife on the floor, screams of agony filling the kitchen. How a knife got in my leg in the first place, I am unaware. Blood spilling out of the tear in my thigh, the mouth of a sinner was quick to cover the wound.

A very strange meeting indeed.

I couldn’t immediately see the stranger, nor greet them, nor thank them for saving me from bleeding out. In fact, I hadn’t even seen someone walk in. The mouth attaching to my leg was the last thing I felt before I passed out, presumably from pain.

I awoke in my own bed with a blood stain on my ginger sheets, left by my uncovered wound. I felt a heavy presence around me, though no one was in my room and I didn’t hear any noise that might hint at possible company. I still assumed that the person who left something that mocked a hickey on my thigh was lingering.

When most of the weakness fleeted, I stood and walked out to the sitting room, the largest room in my small house. There, I found a girl sitting on my navy couch, looking at an open book but obviously not reading it.

“Ember,” she said without any motion.

“What?”

“My name. It’s Ember.” With that, she got up and turned around. Paled, some undoubtedly from worry over me, white hair wavy and long enough to wrap around her neck and have some to spare with black infecting the roots, dark eyes that I’d soon find out to be garnet, she stood beautiful in a room that would never be big enough to hold her mannerisms.

“I’m glad you’re well enough to walk on your own, Coralie. I was overwrought.”

“I’m sorry for causing you distress. Thank you for saving me.” I paused. “Pardon my asking but, who are you?”

“Who am I?” Guessing she was clarifying she heard me right, I nodded. “Well, that’s no trouble at all.” Her voice had a feigned confidence that wasn’t there before. She walked up to me and brought her hand to my jaw. Her hand was shaking. “Do you trust me to tell the truth?” Again, I nodded, as best I could with her hand still guiding my head.

“Coralie, I’m a fallen angel.”

“I see,” was my only response. Not even a look of surprise crossed my face. I think Ember was confused at that. People wouldn’t often be unaffected after learning fallen angels are real, let alone that one is standing right in front of them, would they?

She leaned her face closer to my own. She was just a few centimeters out of reach. “Are you afraid,” she asked.

“No.”

“Very well.” She returned her head to a safe distance from mine, brushed her thumb across my cracked bottom lip, and then backed up entirely. 

I remained unphased.

_______________

 

“How long have you been alive,” I questioned with more interest in how long the being before me existed rather than how long she’d been on earth, how long she’d been a fallen angel, or how long her name had been Ember.

Something I didn’t expect - she sighed. “All too long, my dear. I should have expired ages ago. The price I pay, right?”

“Ember?” She turned to look at me, in reaction to her name being said. “Aren’t fallen angels evil?”

“Yes.”

“You aren’t evil, though.” The look on her face, already sad, dropped further. If I’d been closer to her in that moment, I would’ve seen a tear flicker across her eye.

“You don’t know what I’ve done, Coralie.” She turned to stop facing me. “You don’t know who I am, what I am.”

Quietly, I said, “I’d like to.” She started toward me, and I was almost scared by her fast pace. She rounded the corner of the couch so that she was in front of me. She stopped. I couldn’t read her expression. Without another word, she fell into my arms, which I kindly wrapped around her.

Me and her, we were lonely. We’d both lived our own eternities surrounded by sounds, by questions, by good and bad people alike, but never understanding why. That embrace was the first time either of us felt a connection with someone else.

After talking and crying for a while, there was silence. We simply sat and enjoyed our shared space. I broke it, the silence, by asking why her name was Ember. 

“I would’ve been a fire demon if I originated from hell, so I was named accordingly and sent to earth.” I nodded in understanding. “Why’s your name Coralie?” I had to laugh.

“It’s just a name my mom fancied, I suppose,” I said after I was calmed.

“Do you like that name?”

“I’ve never really thought about it. Coralie is an alright name.”

“I think it’s beautiful.” Ember broke out of my arms and turned. She softly pushed me down on the couch and laid on me, her stomach on my upper legs and her head on my chest.

“Why are you so intrigued by death,” she inquired.

And so the night went on, us like that.

__________________

To trust is to firmly believe in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something. The only thing I’ve ever honestly trusted is death. It’s always there, something everyone must meet. Death is constant.

I’ve never trusted my own humanity. Being human means being alive, surviving, thriving. I am absent. If you asked me what cold feels like, I would not know. If you asked me what happiness is, I would not know. Physically, I am a human. But I have no humanity, and no need to live.

Ember and I have that in common. She has more reasons to not be classified as a human. She was not born. She will not die. She was created by a god humans cannot fully fathom. Angel was her position. Then “sinner” became a substitute for “human” and she was deemed a fallen angel.

As quick as the mouth of a sinner found the wound on my thigh, it found the cracks of my lips.

After she graciously kissed me with her compassionate lips and soft, light skin that brought a fire to her touch that would leave burns far greater than any stove, she pushed away. I felt a tear on my cheek, but I was not crying. It was Ember’s.

“I’m going to leave,” she declared with a voice that was more cracked than my lips.

“No. Ember-”

“I’m going to hurt you!” She interrupted. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Ember. You’re not going to hurt me. You’re not evil. I trust you.”

“I am, though. I’m evil. I’m malicious. I’m bad. I’m bad for you.” I stepped closer to her. She backed away. “Do you know why I was in your house when I saved you?” I shook my head.

“I came here to kill you.”

She sounded like she was going to continue talking, but I stopped her by asking, “why didn’t you?”

“What?”

“I want to die, Ember. Why didn’t you kill me?”

“I was trying,” she retorted. “The knife, I had the knife in my hand. And then you turned around and I saw you for the first time. And you were so different. You didn’t make sense to me. I wanted to find out why. This happened in a second, a half a second, a quarter of a second, maybe. But it was too late. I let my arm fall but I had already stepped forward.” She was weeping now. “The knife went into your leg.”

“Oh,” I said. “You should’ve killed me. I’m not worth all the trouble you’re going through. And you would be doing me a favor. Well, I’m still here, I still want to die. Just kill me now.” I gently smiled at her, somewhat in attempt to coax her into murdering me.

“No, Coralie. I’m not going to kill you. Not now, not ever.”

“Okay then. If you’re not going to take my life, you should at least stay. Don’t make me suffer again.”

“Coralie?”

“You can’t really hurt me if I don’t care about anything, anyway. Being lonely is absolutely terrible, though. It’s the source of all my pain, if I’m being honest.”

Ember was calmer now. Her face was still red and puffy, and she definitely wasn’t as comely as she’d been. The waterfall of tears stopped, but I saw one last tear drop cascade down her cheek.

“I’m sorry. I’ll stay.”

“Hey Ember?”

“Yea?”

“You should kiss me again. It was… enjoyable.” She gave me a sad smile and neared me. I laced one arm around her waist and one behind her neck, and she connected us.

For the very first time, I was able to feel the warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments or kudos are appreciated!


End file.
